


The Arrows of Delight

by CracklPop



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Frotting, Future Fic, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Possessive Spock (Star Trek), mentions of harems, post-mission sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24736144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CracklPop/pseuds/CracklPop
Summary: After a mission leaves Jim wearing something much more revealing than his uniform, he discovers a strong possessive streak in Spock.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 24
Kudos: 522





	The Arrows of Delight

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a dirty one-shot, but a lot of feelings got in at the end.
> 
> I'm still working on my Teen Wolf WIPs, but I've been reading a ton of Kirk/Spock recently. When this idea presented itself, it was irresistibly self-contained.

Their mission on Telete III did not go precisely as planned. But then, Spock reflected, the same could be said of an alarmingly high percentage of the _Enterprise’s_ exploratory visits. 

This particular situation—and part of Spock, a small part, perhaps the human part, was tempted to term it a _debacle_ —had nearly ended in Captain James Kirk becoming a consort and harem member for the queen of Telete III. In order to avoid that outcome, the captain had employed tactics typically unconventional and irresistible. Those tactics did not bear dwelling on, but they had resulted in the violation of four Starfleet regulations, three physical stunts unlikely to please CMO McCoy, and the destruction of yet another of the captain’s uniforms. 

However, when the away team beamed back to the _Enterprise_ —all radiating a powerful sense of relief—they brought with them a signed agreement for everything the Federation had wanted from Telete III. Spock would never truly understand the reckless actions or the intuitive leaps of his captain, but he found it difficult to argue with their efficacy. Seventy-three percent of the time. 

“Damn it, Jim,” Doctor McCoy snapped, upon seeing the captain’s attire. He ran a tricorder over Captain Kirk with quick movements before hissing in an undertone, “You look like an escapee from the set of a very cheap, very adult holovid.”

“Thanks, Bones,” the captain replied, batting the tricorder away. “I’m fine. You should check out Ensign Rendell over there instead. She handled the part of the plan that involved a drinking competition.”

“Oh, there was a _plan?_ ” McCoy asked sarcastically. “From what I could hear, it sounded like we were going to have to leave you behind, _your highness_.” 

“It was a courtesy title,” the captain muttered. “Although I’m not even sure my position as Eighteenth Companion would’ve gotten me that much.” 

“You’re on medically mandated rest for the next twenty-four hours,” McCoy informed him. “Starting now.”

“Can I at least spend the boring time in my quarters?” Captain Kirk requested, adopting an expression that somehow contrived to exaggerate the size of his eyes. The look was, Spock thought, a very compelling use of the captain’s unusually symmetrical features, and had resulted in him attaining what he desired on sixty-seven percent of the occasions Spock had witnessed it. 

“Fine,” McCoy sighed as he followed behind the rest of the away team, heading toward the medical bay. Spock mentally reconfigured his calculations to include another instance of success. 

The captain stepped down from the transporter pad and started to walk toward his quarters. Spock fell into step beside him.

“You know I didn’t actually…copulate,” Jim said after a few minutes. “Even before she made it clear she wanted a, uh, a long-term commitment. We only discussed official business,” he continued, frowning. “You know that, right?”

“I am aware,” Spock said. 

“I mean…you and I…we haven’t talked about exclusivity, and the way things happened planet-side, the way it might have looked to you that first night—”

“Jim.” Spock stopped walking at the door to his own quarters. “I did not doubt your dedication to me. I know you did not seek to become Eighteenth Companion of Her Majesty, the Queen of Telete III.” There was a pause while Spock pushed open the door and allowed Jim to enter first. “I am familiar with your ambitions and they exceed such a position.” 

Jim gave a short laugh and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. He began to unwind the mostly transparent fabric draped over his upper body.

“I’m going to hit the shower, get all this shimmery stuff off me, then maybe we—” Jim broke off at the low noise Spock emitted. 

Jim turned, blue eyes wide in an entirely different sort of expression from his earlier manipulations. 

“Problem?” Jim asked, swallowing visibly. 

“I find I do not…dislike your current garments,” Spock admitted. No, what he _disliked_ was his apparently uncontrollable reaction to seeing Jim’s body so blatantly displayed within the dimly lit confines of Spock’s personal territory. 

“Really?” Jim’s forehead wrinkled for two seconds before realization struck. “Oh. I see.” 

He glanced down at himself then up at Spock, a coy smile curving his lips. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed harem boy would do it for you, but I’m definitely not objecting.” Jim let the loosened fabric fall from his arms, leaving his lightly freckled shoulders bare and gleaming with fragrant-smelling oil. 

“Perhaps it is best if you—” Spock began, ruthlessly tamping down his body’s response to this unexpectedly alluring vision of Jim. 

“If I…what?” Jim’s voice was breathier than usual, and he lowered his lashes to veil the brilliance of his eyes. “If I show you how much I return your appreciation?” 

Spock’s breath caught despite his excellent control when Jim fluidly dropped to his knees and crawled forward to kneel at the feet of his first officer. This was new, this tender abasement. Jim in the past had been an enthusiastic and generous lover, but not a particularly yielding one. 

Spock’s fingers trembled not with nervousness at taking but with a hot rush of possessive intent. He gripped the strands of Jim’s fair hair and pulled until Jim’s face rested against Spock’s thigh. 

Jim moaned and opened his mouth to kiss the hard cock before him. Seeing Jim’s unhidden pleasure at the position, feeling through the touch of their skin Jim’s honest desire, Spock’s mind went to the savagely erotic pre-Surakian poetry he had read, breathless, in his youth. 

It should not have surprised him, then, that Jim’s mind had once again run along similar paths. 

“ _At the touch of you_ ,” Jim husked, quoting an old verse from a Terran poet, “ _As if you were an archer with your swift hand at the bow/The arrows of delight shot through my body_.” 

Spock’s much-vaunted patience abandoned him at that point, and he lifted Jim into his arms before pressing him onto the mattress. Jim made a noise of shock at the way his body was so easily maneuvered, but quickly adjusted to his new location, propping himself up on one elbow and cocking a knee to better display the way his short wrap offered inadequate coverage. 

Jim’s wrists still bore the metal cuffs from Telete III, and a temporary depilatory treatment on-planet had rendered his skin smooth and hairless. He was an entirely different creature from the hard-edged starship officer Spock was familiar with. _This_ Jim was soft and bare, his body language compliant instead of challenging.

“Is your mind clear of outside influence, captain?” Spock asked, suddenly concerned that the man he saw before him was not acting of his own will. 

“Yes, _commander_ , it is,” Jim replied, straightening his spine. “I was just…enjoying something different. If this isn’t what you like, I can get rid of this stuff.” His cheeks flushed slightly and he began to slide off the bed. 

“Stop,” Spock commanded before he could think better of it. Jim froze, cuffed wrists on either side of his legs. “Stop,” Spock said again, more quietly but no less assertively. He crossed to the bed and braced his arms against the mattress, forcing Jim back until he was lying down, caged by Spock’s body. 

Jim’s breathing quickened and he looked up at Spock silently, his fingers tangled in the blankets he lay on. Spock lowered himself farther to press his lips to Jim’s, tongue reaching out to boldly lick into Jim’s mouth, claiming and dominating as he went. Jim kissed him in return, but sweetly, following Spock’s lead. Through the grip Spock had on Jim’s shoulder, he felt only desire and curiosity. 

Spock moved down the length of Jim’s body, kissing and nipping at the expanse of skin spread out for him. He had explored Jim’s body in similar ways before, but now the texture and appearance of the vulnerable skin was markedly different—satiny and overlaid with a hint of shimmer. It tasted of apricots and Jim’s familiar salty heat. 

When Spock reached the knot of fabric that secured Jim’s final bit of clothing, he tore it without much effort and let the two halves flutter to either side of Jim’s hips. Then he ran his sensitive fingertips over the dips and hollows of Jim’s torso, marveling at the sensation. It felt like a layer of hot silk over hard muscle and Spock groaned at the way Jim quivered in response. 

Gently, Spock took Jim’s rosy-tipped cock in his hand and let the warmth sink into his skin, not moving his fingers. Jim let out a small, high-pitched noise that he tried to muffle into his hand. Driven by instincts that he would meditate on later, Spock took Jim’s wrists in one hand and pushed them over Jim’s head. The position prevented Jim from touching himself and arched his back, presenting his chest. 

“Do not move your arms unless I give you permission,” Spock said, tightening his hold until Jim nodded. Satisfied, Spock turned his attention back to coaxing out more noises of pleasure. He kept Jim’s hard penis imprisoned with his hand as he took one of Jim’s nipples between his lips and tugged lightly with his teeth. The little bud stiffened and blushed under his ministrations, and Spock was rewarded with a stream of gasps and moans from Jim’s parted lips. Spock repeated the teasing motions on Jim’s other nipple then sat back to enjoy the sight. 

Jim’s hands were clenching and unclenching, but he remained where Spock had placed him, obedient. Through the hold Spock had on Jim’s most intimate parts, he could feel lust and frustration and a deep, deep affection. Spock tilted his head and considered the Human before him, legs spread, mouth open, eyes glazed. 

“Please,” Jim murmured. Spock let his palm slide up and down once on Jim’s cock and Jim gave a short cry, his hips jerking. 

“Hm,” Spock observed, and pushed Jim’s hips down, keeping him still. Unable to gain any friction and unwilling to disobey Spock’s orders, Jim bit his lower lip and stared up at Spock in desperation. Spock ran his thumb over the head of Jim’s captive cock, smearing the clear liquid leaking from its tip. 

“You’re…ughmmm—” Jim tried again to rock his hips up and was prevented from moving. “You’re really strong.”

“You are acquainted with the disparity in our physiology. I do not see how this is relevant.” Spock took unexpected pleasure in speaking as didactically as possible while teasing his fingers over the tip of Jim’s penis. 

Jim moaned. The sound was inordinately pleasing. Spock stood and removed his clothing without taking his usual care. Jim moaned again at the sight of a nude, aroused Spock, prompting the latter to work two fingers into Jim’s mouth as if to chase the sound’s origin point.

The wet heat of Jim’s mouth surrounded Spock’s fingers and he thrust them in and out as Jim sucked and licked. Spock put a knee down on the bed, between Jim’s parted thighs, and continued to mimic coitus with his fingers and Jim’s eager mouth. 

“You are lovely,” Spock breathed, and Jim’s face took on a pink tint. Spock lightly feathered his mind across Jim’s surface thoughts and found that he had blushed at the words of praise. “It is the truth,” Spock assured him, running his thumb over Jim’s lower lip. “You are beautiful. I am sure you have been told this before.”

Jim made a dismissive noise and Spock pulled his fingers free. 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” muttered Jim, trying to get Spock to come closer. 

“Does it mean something to know that _I_ consider you lovely?” Spock ran his fingers through Jim’s hair and kissed his lips, trying to express his admiration through touch. He felt Jim’s skin heat again at the words. 

“Yes,” said Jim when Spock parted their lips so they could breathe. 

“I am gratified to hear it.” 

There was very little in the way of conversation for some time after that.

Spock bent his considerable focus to recalling every sensitive spot, every part of Jim’s body that made him squirm in pleasure. He teased and licked and bit, his hitherto unexpressed tendencies toward dominance guiding him to leave marks on Jim’s hips, collarbone, and shoulders. 

The part of him that was a Starfleet officer engaging in discreet sexual relations with his captain hesitated to leave any evidence on Jim’s neck. However, that part’s influence on Spock’s behavior had become increasingly negligible. Spock ran his tongue over the column of Jim’s neck then sucked a bright-red mark just below his ear.

Jim whimpered in approval and Spock made another love-bite on the other side, farther down. Spock lifted his head, noting that Jim still had not moved his hands from their position. 

As a reward, Spock brought their bodies together, his own hard cock, dark-green and weeping at the tip, brushing against Jim’s. 

Jim let out a sob of delight and relief. Spock ground down and allowed Jim to find a rhythm against him, until they were writhing against each other, copious fluid slicking their organs and multiplying the sensations. 

Initially, Spock had wanted to penetrate Jim, to fill him and conquer him. But feeling Jim’s strong body against his, feeling Jim’s powerful desire for Spock, was sufficient to push him into orgasm. Spock let his body go, his mind a rushing waterfall of shared ecstasy—his and Jim’s together, all pounding waves and crashing sound. Jim shuddered in his arms and Spock drew him even closer, ignoring the mess of liquid between them. 

Jim panted quietly and Spock said, “You may move yourself however you wish now.”

He was pleased when Jim immediately wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulders and buried his face in Spock’s neck. 

After nine minutes of lying entwined, Spock rose to procure a damp cloth for cleaning purposes. That task accomplished, he lay back down and put a blanket over them. Jim’s hand found his under the covers and linked their fingers. 

“When you learned of my…admiration for your current appearance, you indicated surprise,” said Spock. “Our previous sexual intimacies have not suggested that a more passive role would suit you. And yet just now, when you were restrained and obedient, I found that relatively little stimulation rendered you near-incoherent with arousal.” 

“I’m the captain.” Jim’s voice was resigned. “I love fucking you, but most of the time I…I have a hard time letting go of…being me.” He shut his eyes for six seconds before opening them to look back at Spock. “This time, I was able to just…think about you. I knew I’d be pleasing myself by pleasing you. What…what did this experiment do for you?”

“It is difficult for me to engage in emotional and sexual intimacy without experiencing possessiveness,” said Spock. 

“That doesn’t sound too unusual. From a Human perspective, at least,” Jim replied. 

“I have been restraining myself,” Spock admitted. 

“Hey.” Jim shifted minutely toward Spock, tilting his head up. “Anything I’ve felt from you I’ve wanted. And reciprocated.”

Through the places where their fingers twined, he could feel Jim’s mind. There was no rejection or distaste; on the contrary, Spock felt a renewed surge of fondness. 

“Don’t hold back.” Jim tightened his grip on Spock’s hand. 

“Seeing you this way,” Spock began, then continued after a hesitation. “Seeing you this way fulfilled a fantasy I have never allowed myself to acknowledge. A fantasy where you are mine, where you yield to me, think of me, belong to me. I have thought of you like this, deep in my own mind, in places I do not visit often. But what we are to each other is too valuable to strangle with the bonds of my possessiveness.” 

“I’ve never—” Jim took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ve never…belonged to anyone before. My life has been about people leaving. Or me leaving before they could do it first.”

“I do not think you need to fear my leaving,” Spock replied. “Rather, you should fear never being allowed to leave me.”

“I don’t fear that.” Jim leaned up to press a kiss to Spock’s lips. The contact delivered a rush of love and wonder and contentment. Spock cradled the back of Jim’s neck and squeezed gently. Jim did not fear being consumed, or overwhelmed.

“Earlier you spoke of exclusivity,” Spock whispered. 

“I haven’t been with anyone else since we started…with each other,” replied Jim. “Am I…do you want to? Fuck, I’m not making sense.”

“I understand. I want only you, Jim.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Jim sighed the word out on an exhalation, joy lighting his face. He brought Spock’s hand up and arranged the long fingers in a meld position. “I’m yours. Come and see.”

“And I,” said Spock, curling his consciousness around Jim’s, “am yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Poem is "At the Touch of You," by Witter Bynner.


End file.
